Not Enough
by Face of Poe
Summary: After Jaina leaves him when he betrays her trust at Sernpidal, Kyp begins a slow descent to the Dark side... and must be stopped. Dark-Kyp/Jaina with some implied Jaina/Jag and Jaina/Zekk. Rated for strong innuendo. One-shot


**Disclaimer**: Characters and the like belong to Lucasfilms… just my playthings for a while. ;-)

**Setting**: mid-NJO era but ambiguous… after the 2nd Battle of Sernpidal when Kyp tricked and betrayed Jaina

**Rating**: Strong T

**Not Enough**

She woke, and knew he was coming for her before she even remembered where she was.

It was too dark, too quiet, to be in the midst of a war; the past two years were a blur of dogfights in her XJ X-wing, and to be away from it, however fleetingly brief…

An arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her close.

But he was getting closer to her, so she needed to extract herself from the grasp; it would not do to have the inevitable conversation here, like this…

_Conversation_. What a laugh. The limits of their civility had yet to be proven enough to partake in something as relaxed as _conversation_.

Slipping on a robe, she silently exited the small billet, letting the door slide noiselessly shut once more. A glance to her left… and then her right…

She was grabbed from the left, though moments ago the passage had been empty. Not panicking, not attempting to free herself, she was pushed against the opposite wall with just enough force to show her he was serious.

The show of strength was unnecessary; she'd known he was here; she knew he was serious.

A hooded face leaned over her, forcing her to look up, accentuating that she was smaller, weaker…

And she was- there were very few people against whom that was an accurate comparison. But here, tonight- it was true.

The face leaned closer, attempting to elicit a reaction, any reaction…

"Awfully late for a stroll in your sleeping robe, Jaina."

"I felt you coming." Of course she did- he had wanted her to.

"Ah… a welcoming committee then." He was playing with her, a nexu ready to pounce… "Why don't we talk in your quarters? I'm sure it's much more… comfortable… in there."

Blink. "No."

"Why?"

"You know damn well why." He was getting to her.

His laugh was low and dangerous. "I do; but I want to hear you say it."

"Why are you here, Kyp?"

His hand was at her throat- not tight, but there, a lingering threat. "I want to hear you say it," he hissed.

"No; I won't let you derive the satisfaction."

A low growl came from his throat, barely audible, even from the close proximity. "How does he make you feel? Can he make you shiver with a single touch?" He punctuated the question by running his hand around her neck and then grasping the back, making her tense; still, she did not retaliate.

"Why are you doing this?"

His breath was hot against her ear. "I like watching you squirm." His free hand came up to rest on her hip.

"You know that it's yourself you are hurting; not me."

"Do you remember what it was like?" he whispered, ignoring her. "You couldn't be satisfied… your quarters, mine… the sanisteam stall… your X-wing cockpit…"

"Stop." Her eyes closed; she'd let him get to her.

"He can't handle you like I can; he's a whelp, an errand-boy; you need someone stronger, older, smarter… a Jedi needs a Master… he'll never be able to affect you like I can…" the hem of her robe slowly rose as his hand sought the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

She couldn't restrain the shiver. "It's too late for that, Kyp. You betrayed me."

"I loved you."

"That's not always enough."

"No," his voice became a deadly whisper, "it isn't, is it?"

As planned, a wave of cold, unfeeling washed over her; as planned, the moment he turned to investigate the disturbance, she elbowed him in the jaw.

He was too tall, the distance too great, she didn't have the room to build up enough force behind the motion; she hurt him, but did no lasting damage. Snarling, he turned back and slammed her against the wall once more, hands on her upper arms, face close.

"Back away from her, Durron." His surprise was betrayed by one fast flicker of his eyes towards the second newcomer, standing in the doorway of her room.

He turned back to her, ignoring the blaster at his back. "You- _you_ did this." He laughed, a terrible, desperate noise. "One betrayal deserves another?"

"You need help, Kyp. Master Skywalker will get you what you need."

The grip around her shoulders tightened. Her eyes flickered once to the man with a blaster at the threshold of her room, once to the one two meters down the corridor, lightsaber unlit but in hand. "What about _you_, Jaina. Will you give me what I need?"

"I'd have given you anything." For the first time, her voice trembled.

His cruel smirk widened as his hand crept between the folds of her robe, coming to rest above her heart. "You lie; some things I wanted were never yours to give." Her heart thudded three, slow beats.

"I loved you."

"Love isn't always enough; you may have given me your love… your _body_…" his hand rose to cup her cheek and she closed her eyes at the contact. "But your heart- that's been safely locked away where no one can touch it… no one can _hurt _it…"

He kissed her once- softly at first, a painful reminder of what they'd once had, but growing forceful, almost violent… his hands held her head firmly in place, preventing her from turning away from him…

She bit him; he recoiled and struck her across the face. A trickle of blood ran from her nose, but she felt no pain and her eyes did not leave his as he stood, breathing heavily.

That laugh again. His attention turned towards the man with a blaster behind his left shoulder. "What did she promise you, Fel?" His gaze slid down the hallway on the other side. "Or you, Zekk? What things were whispered between you and Jaina when the other wasn't looking? Her promises are empty… like her heart…"

"C'mon, Kyp," Zekk slipped quietly behind and bound the older man's ankles with stun-cuffs, movements awkward due to the ysalamiri frame on his back. Kyp reached out for her face one more time, running his thumb softly over her bruising cheek.

She shivered. His eyes darkened in fleeting satisfaction.

And then his wrists were bound behind his back by another pair of binders. But his eyes never left hers. "I'd have given you anything too," he whispered.

Then he was gone, led away slowly due to his shuffling walk. Once they'd retreated a certain distance, the Force came flooding back to her and with it, Kyp's pain at her betrayal and… twisted, demented, but still there and recognizable… his love for her, his forgiveness.

A strangled sob escaped her and she slid to the floor as Jag rushed to her side.

"You're hurt," he gently wiped at the blood on her face with a kerchief. "Do you need the med bay?"

Still sobbing, she shook her head; nothing was broken. She didn't think Kyp had the strength to hurt her even that much.

"Fel to Skywalker." _When had he reached for a comlink?_ "Zekk is en route with the prisoner, standby."

"Copy, Fel; is everyone alright?"

He glanced once at Jaina who nodded numbly. "Affirmative; it was a clean capture." As they knew it would be; that had been the beauty of her plan. Yet the weeks it had taken them to agree to it… Corran Horn might not have needed to spend twelve days in a bacta tank, and Kenth Hamner might not have a newly acquired prosthetic hand.

She was his weakness. His jealousy, possessiveness... he'd found the trap irresistible. Just as they knew he would.

As Jag carried her trembling form back into the room, she thought about how wrong Kyp had been; her heart was not protected, unable to be hurt…

It felt like it had been pierced through with a vibroblade and was somehow, miraculously, still beating.

**The End**

**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed… I do love a bit of eerie, dark Kyp myself… ;-)


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